


Not How It Should Have Been

by dizzywhiz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I don't want to tag this, M/M, Obliviousness, Roommates!Klaine, Schmoop, Sickfic, but I feel legally obligated to say, college!klaine, fashion major kurt, honestly there is not much backstory here, just lots of fluff and, music major blaine, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzywhiz/pseuds/dizzywhiz
Summary: Kurt gets sick, and his roommate, Blaine, really wants to take care of him for some reason.College AU with roommates!Klaine
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 32
Kudos: 199
Collections: Glee





	1. Not How It Should Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is maybe the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, but I LOVE sickfics. I love everything about 'em, and so I, naturally, had to write one of my own.
> 
> of course it got a lot longer than I intended because it's me, but it's silly and corny and fluffy, and hopefully it's a fun read!

“Kurt? Hey, Kurt, wake up. You’re snoring.”

A soft voice in his ear - paired with the warm weight of a hand on his shoulder - woke Kurt with a start, and he snorted loudly, head jerking up from where it rested on-

_Oh._

He was still sitting at his desk. He must have fallen asleep studying.

_Again._

He blinked slowly down at his laptop, long ago powered off from lack of use, attempting to clear the fog from his head and the sleep from his eyes, but he felt like he was in a dream.

Everything was hazy and _weird,_ and _damn,_ his throat hurt.

 _Shit,_ was he sick? 

No. 

He couldn’t be sick. 

He had felt a tickle in his throat the past couple of days, sure, but he brushed it off. Finals week was coming up, and Kurt Hummel _didn’t_ get sick.

“Hey, maybe you should get in bed. You don’t look so good.”

There was that _voice_ again.

Kurt groaned, wincing at the sharp pain in his throat, and rubbed his hands over his face slowly before turning towards the voice.

It was Blaine, of course. They had been roommates for the better part of a semester now, making the most of their cramped dorm room without stepping on each other’s toes too much. Blaine mostly kept to himself, but he was exceptionally neat and tidy for a college-aged boy, - or _any_ person, really - so Kurt didn’t mind. They had different majors - music education for Blaine and fashion design for Kurt - yet equally busy schedules, and they didn’t see much of each other, often like ships passing in the night.

Kurt didn’t know much about Blaine, but he was never anything but kind and considerate, and Kurt liked living with him. He was a good roommate, better than Kurt could have hoped for when registering for the random assignment pool for his freshman year.

Plus, anyone with eyes could tell that Blaine was _really_ attractive, but Kurt didn’t let himself linger on that.

They were roommates. Whether Blaine was devastatingly handsome in a way that was so endearingly effortless or not was a moot point.

And the fact that Blaine had offhandedly mentioned early on that he was gay didn’t matter either.

But Blaine looked concerned, and his eyes were so _soft,_ like the sun at golden hour but _all the time,_ and _wow,_ how had Kurt never noticed that before? His hand was still on Kurt’s shoulder, too, and comforting and _warm,_ and Kurt was so _cold._

Maybe he was running a fever.

_No._

Kurt Hummel didn’t get sick.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled, pushing himself up to stand in a fluid motion and immediately regretting it, vertigo hitting him like a freight train. He nearly stumbled, but Blaine was _there_ in an instant, steadying him with strong hands on his arms and a soft _whoa._

Under Blaine’s grip, gentle yet firm, Kurt was powerless to resist being directed over to his little twin bed, which suddenly looked more appealing than ever. He intended to sink into the pillows and blankets, but there was that dizziness again, and Kurt ended up collapsing face first into the mattress, feet still planted on the floor.

His body just felt so _heavy._

Why did he feel so heavy, so _drained_ just from walking a few steps?

“There’s some crud going around campus,” Blaine sighed, lifting up Kurt’s legs and hoisting them onto the bed. “It’s knocked out half my ensemble at this point. I bet you caught it.”

In the back of his mind, Kurt knew he would be embarrassed about his roommate quite literally _putting him to bed,_ but in the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Not sick,” he grunted into the pillow, wincing as a shiver suddenly ran through him, momentarily taking control over his body. _Still not sick._ “Don’ worry ‘bout me.”

“Kurt, you’re _shaking._ Here, I’ll- Let me make you some tea. It’ll warm you up. Does your throat hurt? I can put some honey in it. That might help, too, at least that’s what…”

It was nice that Blaine cared so much, and although Kurt was fiercely independent, the feeling of being doted on settled in his belly with a strange sort of comfort, lulling him into a semi-conscious state. He was right on the edge of sleep, but he knew Blaine was talking, and it would be rude not to listen, but he couldn’t quite focus on what he was saying. 

Was he really still talking about tea? Or maybe it was something else…

“Hey.”

Blaine’s voice was back and close again, pulling Kurt out of the sleep he must have drifted into. If Kurt didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought he felt the touch of fingers ghosting through his hair, too, but the idea left his mind as quickly as it entered.

That didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he _did_ have a fever.

“I feel bad to wake you up again, but the tea is ready, and I think it’ll help,” Blaine said softly, and Kurt felt the bed shift as - _oh -_ Blaine sat down on the bed beside him. 

With a groan, Kurt managed to roll over and sit up a bit to take the mug Blaine was offering him, body releasing a small shudder at the warmth as he wrapped his hands around it. _God,_ he felt terrible. His head was throbbing, and his limbs were achy in a way that settled deep in his bones, and swallowing _hurt._

But Kurt couldn’t afford to be sick. He had studying to do, a paper to finish, and a portfolio of designs to complete, and it all had to be done _that weekend_ because - _oh yeah -_ finals week was _the next week._

He simply did not have time for a cold or the flu or whatever variation of plague was going around campus.

He sipped the tea gingerly - chamomile with just enough honey, he happily noticed - and relished in the feeling of it warming him from the inside out and soothing his throat to boot.

And Blaine was still sitting right there, right on Kurt’s bed.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kurt said, wincing at how scratchy and abrasive his voice sounded as it broke the silence that had settled over them. “I mean. Thank you, but, um. Yeah.”

Blaine ducked his head, letting out a little laugh before looking over at Kurt with a shrug.

“I don’t mind, really. No big deal.”

“Well, this was more than enough,” Kurt assured him, raising his mug in indication. “I’m pretty sure our roommate contract didn’t come with a nursing clause.”

Blaine cracked a smile at that, and Kurt couldn’t help but mirror it, momentarily ignoring the twinge of pain in his throat at the movement. Blaine’s smile was infectious, - it always had been - all crinkly eyes and sparkly teeth in a way that made Kurt feel like he was the only person in the world when it was directed at him, even if he knew Blaine was just being nice.

Blaine was so, so nice.

“If you need anything though, I’m here,” Blaine said softly, almost _shyly,_ Kurt might have thought if he didn’t know any better. “I-I’ll be around a lot, I mean. I’m mostly just studying and finishing up some papers before next week.”

Kurt hummed softly in acknowledgement, attributing the warmth blossoming in his chest to the tea. They sat quietly for a long moment as he drank, and Blaine was picking at a loose thread on the seam of his jeans, and maybe it should have been awkward, but it just wasn’t.

He managed about half of the mug before his stomach threatened to turn, and just as he was sitting up to find somewhere to put it down, Blaine was _there_ again, easing it out of his hands and placing it on the desk next to Kurt’s bed with a gentle smile.

“Thanks,” Kurt attempted, voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Blaine for a moment, trying to figure him out, trying to figure out why he _cared,_ and Blaine just looked right back, an unreadable expression on his face, though the smile still tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I-It’s late,” Blaine said suddenly, breaking their eye contact and swiftly getting up off the bed. “I… You need all the rest you can get. But let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll just be right over there.”

Now that Blaine mentioned it, Kurt _was_ tired. In fact, sleep sounded incredible. It sounded so _nice,_ and _Blaine_ was so nice, too, and it was really nice that Blaine cared, even though Kurt wasn’t sure why.

Blaine probably just wanted Kurt to get better quickly so he had less of a chance of catching it.

Yes, that logic checked out perfectly.

Content with his reasoning, Kurt shifted to lay down fully again, burrowing into the blankets. He was still cold, though not anywhere close to shivering like before. The tea really had helped, and if that was all it took, then maybe he wasn’t even sick after all.

“‘M fine, Blaine, really,” he sighed as he nuzzled into his pillow, eyelids growing heavy as he lazily watched Blaine cross back over to his own side of the room. “Not even sick.”

He thought he heard Blaine say something in reply, but he didn’t have the chance to make it out before he fell completely, blissfully asleep.

Kurt was so, so sick.

He was so _hot._

It was the middle of the night, and he woke up with a start, laying in a pool of sweat with more beading at his hairline, under his nose, _everywhere._ It felt like a weight was sitting on his chest, and it was hard to _breathe,_ and he was suffocating in the still heat of their cramped little room.

It was _so_ _fucking hot._

In a flurry of desperate motion, he kicked his legs to throw his blankets off the bed, only to end up knocking his ankle on the cinder block wall next to his bed with a loud thud, which, _ow._

“Ow.”

“Huh, wha-? Kurt? You okay?”

_Shit._

He had woken Blaine up.

And no, truly, Kurt _wasn’t_ okay. He was hot, and he was thirsty, and he was completely _miserable,_ but he couldn’t let Blaine know that. Blaine was nice, - _so_ nice - and Kurt refused to take advantage of that.

“I’m fine. Just got hot,” Kurt insisted, but his voice betrayed him. He sounded so weak that he didn’t even believe _himself._

He lay back, staring into the darkness as he listened to Blaine getting up and stumbling around, wondering what he was doing but not having the energy to ask.

But then Blaine was flicking on his desk lamp, a soft light illuminating the room, and he was _there_ again, a glass of water in hand, this time, along with a small pill bottle. 

“You probably have a fever,” Blaine said, sitting on the bed next to Kurt again, just like he had earlier. His voice was scratchy and sleep-heavy in a way that nearly gave Kurt goosebumps, but even if he _did_ have goosebumps, it probably _was_ just because he had a fever. “You haven’t taken anything yet, have you?”

“No, not yet,” Kurt admitted softly, propping himself up on one elbow before reaching for the water, but _oh,_ Blaine was holding the glass up to his mouth, tipping it to help him get a drink.

Normally, Kurt would have been mortified, but the water tasted so _good_ that he didn’t even care about anything else, and he drained most of the cup quickly.

“Here, save some for the medicine. This is all I have, but it should help,” Blaine murmured quietly, pulling the glass away and setting it down long enough to open the bottle of ibuprofen.

Kurt just watched as Blaine shook the pills into his hand, marveling at how effortlessly Blaine stepped in to help him, even though he was little more than an acquaintance that just happened to sleep within the same four walls. It was strange, but everything seemed easier, less _real_ in the middle of the night, and Kurt simply allowed himself to revel in the feeling of being cared for. It wasn’t like Kurt _couldn’t_ get his own water, get his own pills, but something was telling him to just _let_ Blaine do it for him.

It almost made him feel _safe._

“Wha’ time is it?” Kurt wanted to know, shivering lightly as the air in the room cooled the sweat drying on his skin. 

“I dunno,” Blaine shrugged, holding a pill between his fingers and up to Kurt’s lips. Feeling like a helpless child, Kurt complied, letting Blaine drop the pills into his mouth, followed by the water again.

It felt so intimate, and Blaine’s eyes were soft again, and he looked sleep-rumpled and _young,_ and Kurt couldn’t suppress another shiver.

Try as he might to convince himself otherwise, he knew it wasn’t from the fever this time.

“Do you think you can get back to sleep?” Blaine asked softly after setting the cup back down, looking around at the mess Kurt had made of his bedding, pillows and blankets twisted and strewn on the floor and stuffed at the foot of his bed. 

“I got hot,” Kurt said dumbly, suddenly embarrassed by how _messy_ he looked. If Kurt prided himself in anything, it was looking put together, and this was very much _not it._ He cringed as he realized his sheets were cold and damp from his sweat, and his shirt was clinging to his back, and oh _god,_ he hoped Blaine wasn’t sitting on any of it.

He felt exposed, and he felt vulnerable, and he hated it.

But he also felt sticky, and he felt clammy, and he felt _gross._

“I, um. I’m not sure if I can get comfortable again,” Kurt admitted quietly, figuring if Blaine was going to be there whether Kurt tried to push him away or not, he at least needed to be honest. 

“I was having trouble sleeping, too,” Blaine agreed, though Kurt wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not. “We could, um. We could watch a movie or something if you wanted. Just until you get tired again.”

Kurt watched him carefully for a long moment, trying to figure out if Blaine was really there, if Blaine really wanted to watch a movie with him, or if maybe he was dreaming. 

It wasn’t like they had _never_ hung out before. In fact, when they first moved in, they both put in the effort to have meals together, to have movie nights, and it was _good._ They were both freshmen, and they were both from out of state, and neither of them knew anyone else until classes started up. But then they got busy, and they found their own social circles within their respective majors, and they just kind of...drifted apart before they even really got started.

Kurt missed it sometimes, but he was busy. They both were, and that was fine.

Magically becoming best friends with your randomly assigned freshman roommate was myth, anyway, and anything _more_ than that was straight out of a badly-acted gay porno.

It just didn’t happen, and that was okay.

But Blaine really was nice, and Blaine was _there,_ and Blaine _wanted_ to hang out with him. Everything was fuzzy, and his head felt weird, and his body felt heavy, and he wasn’t completely convinced anything was real, but Kurt wanted to hang out with Blaine, too.

He really, really wanted to.

“I… Sure.”

Minutes later, Kurt found himself settled on Blaine’s bed, propped up and leaning back against a tower of pillows as Blaine collected his laptop.

He had never been on Blaine’s bed before. During their movie nights months prior, they had always sat on the floor, laptop in front of them and snacks between them, but Blaine had insisted Kurt needed to be comfortable enough to fall asleep as soon as he was able to. Kurt’s bed was as good as unusable, desperately needing a change of sheets before it was worthy of sleeping in again. 

It was Blaine’s idea to use his own bed, and though Kurt protested, he ended up giving in. 

Kurt wasn’t used to giving in.

It may have just been the fever rendering Kurt useless, but, surprisingly enough, Blaine was rather convincing when he wanted to be.

And apparently he wanted Kurt on his bed.

“Gonna get you sick,” Kurt muttered as Blaine climbed onto the bed, laptop in hand, slotting himself right up next to Kurt. Their sides were pressed together from shoulder to thigh, but they had to be in order to fit on the narrow twin bed.

Blaine was warm, and he smelled good, too - a little like raspberries, maybe.

Blaine was warm, and he smelled good, and he was so _nice,_ and he was on the bed _right next to him._

Kurt was on Blaine’s bed _with Blaine._

Maybe it should have been weird, but it just wasn’t.

“Strong immune system,” Blaine boasted teasingly as he pulled up Netflix on his computer. “I’ll be fine.”

Kurt couldn’t help but sink back into the pillows as he watched Blaine scroll through the possibilities onscreen. His eyelids were already beginning to feel heavy, and he wasn’t necessarily too hot or too cold for the moment, and Blaine’s steady presence beside him felt comforting in a way he didn’t really want to think about.

“Whatcha want to watch?” Blaine prompted softly, stirring Kurt out of the semi-asleep state he had slipped into after only moments of sitting there.

Kurt snuffled quietly, shifting a little onto his side to get more comfortable, facing Blaine but keeping his eyes closed.

“Doesn’ matter,” he mumbled. “You got House Hunters?”

“Classic or International?”

Kurt opened his eyes long enough to glare up at Blaine, though he froze as soon as their eyes met, his breath hitching despite himself.

Blaine had already been looking at him, eyes somehow even softer and _fond,_ a smile playing on his lips.

_Okay._

“I, um. Do you even have to ask?” 

“Just making sure you’re with me,” Blaine teased, looking at him for another long moment before tearing his eyes away and selecting an episode of - _good -_ House Hunters International. “You can fall asleep whenever you want, you know. And you _should._ I don’t mind.”

“Not tired,” Kurt huffed, though his eyes were falling shut against their will, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle further into the pillows, practically laying down. “‘M with you.”

He was asleep before he even figured out what country the episode was in.

Kurt was late.

His final was supposed to start at nine, but he had forgotten to set his alarm, and he barely woke up in time. He was running, running through campus, and he was going to be late, and his professor wasn’t going to let him take his exam if he arrived even a minute past nine.

_If you’re on time, you’re late._

It had been drilled into him all semester, and he hadn’t missed a single class, but suddenly, it was all falling apart.

Everything shifted, fuzzy and hazy and like being underwater, and Kurt was running through the halls of his old high school. Though Kurt knew it was McKinley, it looked different, and it _felt_ different, and he didn’t understand why he was there. He was running, and he was searching, but he didn’t know what he was looking for, and the hallway wasn’t ending, and time was ticking by, and it was _all falling apart,_ and his future was as good as _ruined,_ and-

“Kurt? Hey, hey. What’s the matter?”

Kurt startled awake quickly, unsure of where he was or when it was or who was _talking,_ and why was his pillow warm and _breathing?_ His heart was racing as he attempted to jerk up, confused and panicked, only to have a hand come to rest on his back, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. 

_Blaine._

Instantly, Kurt deflated, the reality of being sick, of being in Blaine’s bed, of being _cared_ for by Blaine all coming back to him.

He had apparently been sleeping _on_ Blaine, too, but he was unable to even begin processing that. He had been stressed about finals, sure, but the dream had shaken him to his core, leaving him feeling vulnerable and _lost._

But Kurt was fine. He felt like death and likely looked even worse, but he was fine, and his future was fine, too.

It had just been a dream.

“Sorry, sorry, I- Nightmare,” he said shakily, rubbing a hand over his face to pull himself out of it, to wake himself up.

Blaine frowned, hand coming from where it rested on Kurt’s back to touch his forehead instead.

“Yeah, I bet it was a weird one, huh?” Blaine mused, shaking his head. “You’re burning up.”

“I hate being sick,” Kurt grumbled, propping himself up on his elbow and blearily looking around. It was light out, now, and it likely had been for some time. He hated not knowing what time it was, but even after a full night’s sleep, he didn’t have the energy to get up and find out. “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

“I told you you could, you know. I had it coming.”

As Blaine pulled his hand away, he brushed back a piece of limp hair that had flopped onto Kurt’s forehead, and Kurt’s eyes briefly fluttered closed at the touch, warmth twisting in his belly.

Kurt had worked tirelessly all semester to not develop a crush on Blaine. He hadn’t even let his mind _go_ there. Blaine was his roommate, and even if Blaine was gay, it just wasn’t right.

Things just didn’t work out like that, anyway, especially not for Kurt.

Yet after a mere twelve hours of having a fever, his resolve was already threatening to crumble completely.

_Dammit._

“You probably need something stronger than just ibuprofen,” Blaine said softly, hand returning to its place between Kurt’s shoulder blades like it fit there, naturally and effortlessly rubbing tiny circles again. “I could go pick up some stuff if you want. Um, cold medicine and soup, or- Whatever you want.”

Kurt lifted an eyebrow, looking at Blaine curiously.

Blaine was so sweet, so _kind,_ and the fact that he was willing to go out just for Kurt, to let Kurt take over his bed, to rub Kurt’s back and _comfort_ him… 

It was nice, - _incredibly_ nice, even - but Kurt didn’t understand _why._

“Why are you doing this?” he blurted out without even meaning to, internally cursing himself at the way Blaine’s face fell, the way Blaine’s hand instantly froze on his back.

“I… I don’t know,” Blaine admitted, ducking his head and letting out a soft, nervous laugh. “I just… I’ve always kind of wished we got to hang out more this semester, but, um. E-Even if we aren’t really close, I… I care about you, Kurt, and I just like helping the people I care about.”

Kurt couldn’t help a smile from spreading across his face, though he pointedly ignored the way his heart fluttered and the way his stomach flipped at the admission.

Blaine _cared_ about him.

Blaine was the nicest person in America - no, maybe the _world._

“I- Okay,” Kurt breathed, blaming the tightness in his chest on the congestion settling in his sinuses. “I mean, if you’re offering… I would owe you one. I already owe you big time.”

“I am offering.” Blaine’s hand was moving again, fingertips now tracing gentle patterns on Kurt’s back. Kurt’s eyes fluttered closed, and he barely managed to resist arching into the light touches, though he held back, in favor of sinking into the bed again, somehow feeling exhausted all over. “You can stay here and sleep, and I’ll be back soon.”

Kurt hummed quietly in acknowledgement, hovering just above the point of sleep, but then Blaine was shifting, and he was getting up. It was silly, Kurt immediately felt his absence, coldness and emptiness next to him on the bed, and he frowned, burrowing deeper into the blankets.

“Be right back, I promise.”

Blaine's voice was faint, and Kurt was vaguely aware of the pressure of his wide palm on his back again, just for a moment, before the blankets were being cocooned around him, and then, somehow, he was asleep again.

When Kurt woke up next, the room was still and quiet, and it felt _different._

It was like he was experiencing their dorm room from the opposite angle, and-

_Oh yeah._

He kind of was.

He was still in _Blaine’s bed._

Kurt buried his face in the pillow - _Blaine’s_ pillow - and breathed in deeply, as deeply as he could, at least, considering the circumstances. His sinuses were clogged, and his senses were muted, but he could still smell _Blaine_ all around him.

He knew it should have been weird, but it really just _wasn’t._

It was quiet, so Blaine must not have come back from the store yet, meaning Kurt hadn’t been asleep for long. But Kurt was suddenly acutely aware of the sour taste in his mouth, the dried sweat on his face and body, the ache in his bladder.

He needed to get up.

Having learned his lesson from the night before, Kurt moved slowly, managing to make it out of bed without getting lightheaded. He desperately needed a shower, and he knew it would help clear the congestion from his head, but he wasn’t sure he trusted himself enough to handle it.

Either way, a visit to the bathroom was not optional.

Kurt stumbled around the room, collecting a fresh change of clothes along with his shower caddy and a towel, and then he was on his way to the hall bathroom.

He hated the hall bathroom.

It was gross, and it was smelly, and there was a _complete_ lack of privacy, and Kurt felt like he hadn’t been truly _clean_ ever since moving to college.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mind sharing a room at all - though perhaps, his mind unhelpfully supplied, he just didn’t mind sharing with _Blaine._

The bathroom, however, was enough of a deal breaker that even a few weeks into the school year, Kurt knew he couldn’t live in a traditional-style dorm _ever again._

Thankfully, it was still relatively early on Saturday morning, meaning most of his hallmates were still asleep, and Kurt had the bathroom to himself.

He worked carefully yet efficiently to freshen up, managing to pee and change his clothes, and he got halfway through brushing his teeth when he was hit with a fresh wave of vertigo, strong enough to nearly knock him off his feet.

Heart pounding in chest and ears ringing, Kurt held onto the sink in front of him with his free hand, squeezing his eyes closed as he willed it to pass.

“Kurt, you in here? Shit-”

Kurt was vaguely aware of an arm coming around his waist - Blaine’s, of course, to his rescue yet again. He was vaguely aware of Blaine easing the toothbrush out of his mouth, his foamy, minty mouth, but his ears were ringing, and his vision was going spotty, and he couldn’t focus on any one thing long enough to fully register any of it.

The next thing Kurt knew, he was back in Blaine’s bed, with a cool, damp cloth on his forehead.

“You’re burning up, Kurt,” Blaine frowned, putting gentle pressure on the towel with his fingertips. “You should’ve waited for me.”

Kurt’s immediate impulse was to argue, to defend himself and his independence and his goddamn _pride,_ but Blaine was right.

He should have waited.

If Blaine hadn’t gotten back right then, hadn’t come to look for Kurt, hadn’t helped him _yet again…_

Kurt probably would have blacked out.

“I-I’m sorry,” he choked out around the sudden lump in his throat, feeling so small and helpless and _silly,_ because why was he about to get emotional over this? “I didn’t think…”

“Hey, hey,” Blaine murmured soothingly, removing the cloth briefly to wet it again before dabbing it against Kurt’s cheeks. “I know, I… I think you’re sicker than either of us realized.”

Kurt just nodded shakily, letting out a deep breath that rattled in his chest. 

“Here, um,” Blaine started, getting up to go over to the pile of grocery bags on his desk. “I-I got some cold medicine, and then you should really eat something… I don’t know what you like, but I got oatmeal and vegetable soup, a-and there’s more tea, and then maybe we can just watch movies, or if you want you can just-”

“Blaine?” Kurt piped up softly, interrupting his worried monologue, which was - well - _cute,_ honestly, and really endearing. 

Although Kurt was still trying to figure out why, Blaine really _did_ want to take care of him.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked, freezing with his arm elbow-deep in a plastic bag and looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Thank you,” Kurt murmured, suddenly feeling shy as he watched Blaine deflate - and was Blaine _blushing?_

He couldn’t be.

“You don’t have to thank me, but, um. You’re welcome.”

Kurt lazily watched as Blaine resumed digging through the bags, eventually pulling out a box of DayQuil and a few packets of oatmeal. He bought a _lot_ of stuff, Kurt noticed, much more than he needed or even wanted.

“I’ll pay you back,” Kurt promised, easing himself to sit up, pulling the blankets around him. “A-And I really do appreciate it, but don’t you have other things you need to be doing? Studying or practicing, or like- hanging out with your friends?”

Blaine shrugged, coming back to sit on the bed, passing Kurt a packet of pills and a water bottle.

“My piano studio had their recital last week, and I’m already done with my ensemble performances,” he explained, cracking open his own bottle and taking a long drink, while Kurt pointedly ignored the way Blaine’s throat was exposed, neck long and open. “Next week’s pretty light for me, actually. And you _are_ my friend. At least...I’d like to think you are. I-I want you to be.”

Kurt swallowed down his pills before turning to Blaine, looking into those golden eyes again, impossibly softer and _earnest._ He was captivated for a long moment before he realized Blaine was _waiting,_ that Blaine had dealt a card and was waiting for Kurt to play, too.

“Of course we’re friends,” he assured him quietly, though he wasn’t completely sure himself. In the months of living together, they had never spent so much time together - in fact, he couldn't’ even remember the last time they had hung out at all. It wasn’t for lack of wanting, but they just...hadn’t. But sitting there next to Blaine, wrapped up in Blaine’s blankets, he couldn’t think of a single reason _not_ to. “Um, a movie marathon does sound kind of nice. And maybe oatmeal?”

“You got it.”

Hours later, belly full of oatmeal and soup and doped up on cold medicine, Kurt remembered why he hadn’t been hanging out with Blaine all along.

He _liked_ Blaine.

He liked Blaine a _lot._

Blaine was kind, and he was considerate, and he was effortlessly handsome, which Kurt knew all along.

But he had forgotten how funny Blaine was without even trying, how excited he got over the smallest things, how he liked musicals and had an appreciation for fashion and - really - how he cared about nearly _everything_ Kurt cared about, and then some.

Blaine was _everything_ Kurt could think of wanting in a man.

But Blaine was his roommate, and it was dangerous.

Halfway through the first movie, Kurt remembered how Blaine’s smile used to give him butterflies when they hung out together, how his laugh used to be irresistibly infectious, how all he wanted to do was _make Blaine happy_ when they were around each other.

He remembered pushing down the beginnings of a crush because no crush had ever ended well for him before, and crushing on a roommate wasn’t bound to work out either.

He remembered pouring himself into his classes, joining extra clubs, spending more hours in the design studio, just to have real reasons to tell Blaine he couldn’t hang out whenever Blaine asked.

He remembered the invitations dwindling slowly until they didn’t come anymore, but it had worked. Blaine was just his roommate Blaine, not his crush Blaine, not handsome, funny, gay Blaine.

It had worked, until the fever knocked Kurt’s guard down, until Blaine was _there,_ and then it _so_ didn’t work anymore.

Halfway through the third movie, Kurt was dozing off and on, and when his head ended up falling onto Blaine’s shoulder, Blaine’s arm wrapped around him as easy as breathing, and Kurt just...let it happen.

It should have been weird. _All_ of it should have been weird - Blaine taking care of him, Blaine letting him sleep in his bed, Blaine going to the store for him, Blaine _holding_ him, now.

It should have been weird, but it just _wasn’t._

In fact, tucked into Blaine’s side, Blaine’s fingers absentmindedly walking up and down his upper arm in a repetitive motion, Kurt hadn’t felt so relaxed all semester, - or maybe _ever -_ sick or not.

He wasn’t tired, but the cold medicine was strong, and Kurt felt like he was floating, unable to focus on the movie or Blaine’s commentary or _anything,_ really. Even still, he was soothed by a combination of the bits and pieces he could pin down, primarily Blaine’s voice, low and velvety and practically in his ear.

Against his conscious will, Kurt’s thoughts drifted to Blaine, to _what if_ he was sick, and Blaine was taking care of him just like this, but what if Blaine was his _boyfriend_ instead of his roommate?

It wouldn’t be that different at all, he realized.

It was a dangerous realization, and it didn’t make sense, but Kurt didn’t have the strength to explain it away to himself. He didn’t have the strength to push down his crush, reemerging with a vengeance, or to justify why Blaine was just _being nice._

He didn’t have the strength to remind himself why they couldn’t be together, either, why it was wrong to date your roommate, why these things didn’t _happen_ for him, anyways.

“I could really fall for you if I let myself,” Kurt mumbled into Blaine’s neck, missing the fact that he even had spoken aloud, missing the way Blaine tensed underneath him, in favor of drifting off to sleep completely.

It was dark when Kurt woke up again, and he could barely breathe. Netflix was still running on the laptop, but it was resting haphazardly at the end of the bed, and-

_Oh._

He apparently laid down at some point, and so did Blaine, because Blaine’s face was buried in the crook of his neck, and his arm was around Kurt’s waist, and even their _legs_ were tangled together. 

Kurt had a faceful of Blaine’s curls, too, which must have been why he couldn’t breathe, but it was _nice,_ and Blaine’s weight was warm and heavy in a comforting way, and he couldn’t bring himself to move other than turning enough to rest his cheek atop Blaine’s head instead.

Blaine was asleep, snuffling quietly, and when he shifted even closer to nuzzle into Kurt, Kurt stopped thinking about why it should have been weird entirely.

Instead, he let the cold medicine pull him under again, and he fell right back asleep.

Kurt had never been a good sleeper, and usually, he was a near complete insomniac when sick, but he somehow managed to sleep right through the night, only waking up when the sunlight streaming through the window was a little too hot, a little too bright.

He didn’t feel _better,_ per se, but he felt rested, at least, though the fog in his head and congestion in his nose signaled it was past time for more medicine.

And Blaine was still asleep on him. He hadn’t moved an inch - in fact, if anything, he was even closer, their bodies fully slotted together.

It felt good - _more_ than good. He had never woken up with another man before, definitely not like this. He hadn’t done much of _anything_ other than a couple failed first dates with friends of friends and a drunken kiss or two throughout the semester, and this was intimate on a whole new level, but he didn’t mind it. Kurt allowed himself a moment to revel in it, to place his hand gingerly on the small of Blaine’s back.

When Blaine didn’t move, didn’t wake up, Kurt gave himself the permission to really _look_ at him for the first time.

Blaine looked young in his sleep, childlike, almost, save for the stubble on his cheeks, the masculine angles of his jaw. His eyelashes were long and naturally curled in a way Kurt envied, his eyebrows were thick and angular in a way Kurt wanted to manicure, and his lips were full and soft in a way Kurt wanted to _feel_. His face was open, a small, content smile on his face, and Kurt ached for him, simple as that.

He was screwed, and he knew it.

Then Blaine was shifting, and his body was tensing and relaxing again with a heavy stretch, and eyes were fluttering open to meet Kurt’s, and _hello._

There he was.

“Hi,” Kurt breathed before he could stop himself, palm running lightly up Blaine’s back, though he pulled his hand away quickly as he felt Blaine tense underneath him, his blood running cold.

_Shit._

“I- Sorry, I-” Kurt stammered, drawing his arm back entirely and shifting flat onto his back, ignoring the rush in his head and ringing in his ears.

Blaine was gone and off of him in an instant, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair with a trembling hand, shaking his head.

“No, it was me, I…” Blaine began, but he trailed off, staring down at the floor and obviously avoiding looking at Kurt.

Kurt frowned, looking at Blaine’s back for a moment, debating which angle to take.

They had been close - _so_ close - all weekend. Cuddling was a new level, sure, but it wasn’t like they had _kissed,_ and Blaine was the one to put his arm around Kurt in the first place.

But had Kurt remembered it wrong?

Had he made the whole thing up in his head?

Or was Blaine afraid of being rejected?

Later, Kurt would blame his next move on fever-induced delirium, but he reached out a hand, gently touching Blaine’s wrist.

“I didn’t mind it,” he murmured softly, tentatively watching for Blaine’s reaction.

“Well I did,” Blaine snapped, jerking his hand away from Kurt’s light grasp and catching him off guard completely, his sharp tone stabbing Kurt in the chest.

_What?_

A multitude of regrets suddenly flooded Kurt’s mind, and he began to panic as he wondered where he went wrong, which lines he crossed and when, tears threatening to well in his eyes despite himself.

He couldn’t figure it out.

Every touch, every new step, _everything_ was initiated by Blaine the whole time Kurt had been sick.

_Wasn’t it?_

Yet somehow Kurt had let his guard down, had let his carefully-built walls crumble, had let Blaine under his skin, even though he knew exactly how it would turn out.

He knew it would inevitably turn out the way it always had.

But in his haze of sickness and vulnerability, Kurt had somehow convinced himself it would at least last a _little_ bit longer before blowing up in his face.

“Sorry,” Kurt managed, internally cringing at how _tiny_ his voice sounded, how _weak._

 _God,_ he wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, but there was nowhere for him to go.

Blaine was his roommate. They _lived in the same room._

It had been the problem all along.

“No, Kurt, you- You didn’t do anything wrong,” Blaine sighed, reaching out as if to touch Kurt, though he seemed to catch himself, hand falling limply to the bed instead. “I’m sorry, I… I’m being weird.”

Kurt let out a shaky breath, pushing himself slowly to sit upright and rubbing his hands over his face.

“Well, I, um. I really need to study for my bio exam,” he said lamely, though he knew his head was too clogged, his mind too fuzzy to really get anything done. It was the only excuse he could think of, the only way to get some space, to make Blaine leave him alone. “So… I’m gonna try and do that.”

“I can help you,” Blaine blurted out, and Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise, though Blaine looked just as surprised himself. “I-I mean, I took AP Bio last year, and, um. I did pretty well, so. I-I could help. Just an apology for...for being weird.”

Kurt eyed Blaine carefully in consideration, trying for the millionth time that weekend to figure him out. Though studying had originally been an excuse for Kurt to lick his wounds in private, he really _did_ need to brush up on several topics, and biology had always been his weakness. If Blaine did well, even in _advanced_ bio… 

Well, Kurt may have felt like a fool, but he wasn’t foolish enough to turn down Blaine’s help.

As Kurt should have expected, Blaine made sure he was loaded up on cold medicine and oatmeal, was properly freshened up, and had a hot mug of tea in his hands before he would even consider letting Kurt study.

By the time they were finally ready to get started, it was midmorning, and Kurt was settled on Blaine’s bed at Blaine’s insistence, Blaine taking Kurt’s desk chair, textbooks and notes spread between them.

To Kurt’s relief and confusion, the weirdness between them had all but dissipated.

Though the cold medicine had kicked in full force, and Kurt’s eyes were heavy and closed more often than not, he and Blaine worked _well_ together. Blaine quizzed him on vocabulary terms, cheering him on for the ones he knew and making up little songs to help him remember the ones he forgot. He clearly explained the concepts Kurt had been struggling with all semester, and he was knowledgeable in a way that somehow made _Kurt_ want to be smarter, too, instead of making him feel dumb.

But it wasn’t all work, either.

They played around, and they joked, and they teased each other all through the afternoon, and although the cold medicine was making Kurt feel loose and silly, it was more than that.

Their banter was effortless in a way Kurt hadn’t ever experienced, and his face hurt from laughing, and it felt like they just _got_ each other.

And then the question came.

“Why haven’t we been doing this all along?” Blaine wondered aloud, face bright with a toothy grin as they came off of peals of laughter. “Hanging out, I mean. We used to at first, but… Why did we stop?”

Later, Kurt would blame his honesty on the cold medicine, but in reality, something about Blaine just made him want to break down all of his walls and never build them back up again.

“I think I was scared,” he admitted quietly, staring up at the ceiling, the pattern of the popcorn tiles dancing in his blurred vision. “I-I still am _,_ I mean, at least kind of. Things… don’t really work out for me. I’ve never had many close friends. I-I’ve _never_ been close to another guy, if you don’t count my stepbrother, but even _that_ was weird at first. So I guess… I think I accidentally pushed you away because I could see us getting close, but that has never ended well for me, and we live in the same room, so… It’s not like I would have been able to get away once I messed it up.”

Kurt let out a shaky breath once he was finished speaking, nerves swirling in his stomach as he waited for Blaine to say something, to do something, to do _anything._ It wasn’t exactly an admission of his feelings, - crush-related or otherwise - but he had never really put himself _out there_ before, and he had no idea what to expect.

But then the mattress was shifting under the weight of Blaine sitting down, and Blaine’s hand was warm over Kurt’s where it lay on the bed, thumb stroking over his knuckles.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed, and Kurt could feel Blaine’s intent gaze, though he couldn’t quite work up the nerve to meet it. “Why are you so convinced you’d mess it up?”

“I always do,” he said plainly with a little shrug.

They were quiet for a moment, perfectly still apart from the steady motion of Blaine’s thumb, and Kurt felt the weight of his words settling over them.

It made him feel raw, exposed, and he should have hated it, but somehow, Blaine still made him feel _safe._

He had been making Kurt feel safe the entire time.

“Ask me why I’m doing this again. Ask me why I wanted to take care of you,” Blaine said suddenly, breaking the silence and causing Kurt to finally turn his head and look at him. Blaine looked nervous, biting his lip with a furrowed brow, but his eyes were warm and open as ever.

While Kurt had been working tirelessly all semester to build his walls up high and firm, Blaine had never had any at all.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked breathlessly.

Blaine paused for a moment, and Kurt could see the wheels spinning in his head as he considered his words, so he waited. But then Blaine was scooting closer to him, and Kurt was shifting to prop himself up on his elbows, somehow feeling drawn to Blaine like a magnet, and Blaine’s hand was coming up to rest on the side of Kurt’s neck, thumb brushing along his jawline.

“I like you,” Blaine said simply, and a breath hitched in Kurt’s throat. “I always have, and I… I thought I made that pretty clear at the beginning, but I figured you just weren’t interested like that, and that’s fine.”

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine shook his head quickly, continuing on before Kurt could get any words out.

“Anyway, I… I didn’t want us to go home for winter break without trying one more time. To- To be friends, at least. I’ve been trying to think of an excuse to get you to hang out with me, for one last try before I gave up, I guess, and suddenly you needed my help, and it just… It seemed like a reason to spend more time with you.”

_Oh._

“Oh.”

Blaine let out a shaky laugh, ducking his head before looking up at Kurt from underneath his lashes, and Kurt was a goner.

“Yeah,” Blaine shrugged, hand moving to brush a piece of hair off Kurt’s forehead. “That’s… Yeah.”

Kurt just looked up at him for a long moment before grinning slowly, moving to sit up fully, and Blaine was so _close,_ eyes all golden honey and sparkling in the low evening light as they flickered and searched Kurt’s face, gaze landing on Kurt’s mouth again and again.

“So, you’re telling me you took advantage of my compromised position to get me in your bed,” Kurt deadpanned despite the butterflies swirling in his stomach, quirking an eyebrow.

“I...sound pretty shady when you put it that way,” Blaine winced, but Kurt just smiled, taking the leap for the first time to place his hand over Blaine’s, scooting closer.

“I may have the plague,” Kurt reminded him, heart racing in his chest. “And I may still screw all of this up. But… If you wanted to kiss me, I would let you.”

Blaine slowly grinned, reaching up with his free hand to cup Kurt’s face, leaning in until their foreheads were leaning together, noses brushing, breath mixing warm and heady between them.

“Strong immune system, remember?” he murmured before closing the distance completely, pressing his lips to Kurt’s in a gentle, easy kiss.

It wasn’t Kurt’s first kiss, but considering the others were either with a girl, forced upon him by a bully, or the result of drunken party games and dares, it felt like the first one that _counted._

Kurt was half-doped up on cold medicine, congested and fuzzy, but he had never felt more _content_. Blaine’s lips were soft against his own and warmed Kurt down to his toes, his touch electric and _addictive_ in a way that made Kurt want more before it was even over.

It was only a matter of seconds, really, before Blaine was pulling back just enough to break the kiss, thumb stroking gently over Kurt’s cheekbone, but it was enough to make Kurt’s breath go ragged, to exhaust him in the _best_ possible way.

“Was that okay?” Blaine whispered, and Kurt could _feel_ the question against his lips more than he could hear it, causing him to lose his resolve completely.

His feelings for Blaine were so _obvious_ now, and as hard as he tried to push them away, it was all coming to a head, bubbling to the surface in a way that made him just want to _go_ for it, tiny dorm room be damned, fever be damned - nothing mattered but _Blaine._

He had forced himself to ignore Blaine for so long, but suddenly, Blaine was all he could see.

Instead of answering, Kurt just kissed him again, hands flying up to thread his fingers through Blaine’s hair the way he had wanted to do since waking up that morning. Apparently caught off guard, Blaine gasped, and Kurt took the opportunity to lick into his mouth, tongue dipping lightly against Blaine’s.

Logically, he knew he would regret it.

They both would.

He was sick - _really, miserably_ sick.

In that moment, though, Kurt didn’t care, and based on the low moan that came from the back of Blaine’s throat and the way he sucked at Kurt’s lower lip, Blaine didn’t care much, either.

But the fact of the matter was Kurt _was_ sick, and breathing through his nose was limited, and his energy was painfully low, regardless of the fact that he had truly been asleep more often than not in the past 48 hours, and so he pulled away much sooner than he would have liked. 

In fact, the moment he pulled away, he broke into his first coughing fit, which, _great._ Sure, it meant his cold or flu or _whatever_ it was was progressing, but he _hated_ coughing, and it _hurt._

Plus Blaine was _right there,_ and they had just _kissed,_ and then Kurt was hacking all over him.

He had told Blaine he would mess it up, but he hadn’t thought it would be _quite_ so soon.

Kurt pulled back as far as he could in the cramped space and coughed into his elbow, body was racked with the force of it. He tried to catch his breath long enough to tell Blaine to go away, to tell Blaine to save himself, but then Blaine was rubbing his back, voice soft in his ear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Blaine murmured, kneading his back in slow, gentle circles between his shoulder blades. “Get it out, baby. It’s alright, I’m here.”

It passed as quickly as it came on, but it was long enough to wear Kurt out, and when Blaine’s arms came to circle around him, Kurt sunk into him instantly.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled into Blaine’s chest, fisting his shirt in his hands as he tried to catch his breath. “So gross.”

“Not your fault.” 

They sat quietly as Kurt settled down again, Blaine rocking him ever-so-slightly back and forth in a motion that soothed him, lulling his body into a sense of calm. When he finally trusted himself not to launch into another fit, Kurt moved just enough to look up at Blaine, head leaning against his shoulder.

“Baby, huh?” he questioned teasingly, voice scratchy.

“You should rest your voice. Gonna make yourself cough again,” Blaine deflected, but when he pressed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead, Kurt could feel his smile.

Kurt’s biology notes went by the wayside after that in favor of just laying in Blaine’s bed together for the rest of the night, wrapped up in one another and just _being._

“You’re so gonna get sick,” Kurt tried to tell Blaine, but Blaine just shrugged.

“Would you take care of me?” Blaine wanted to know, and Kurt played it cool, but they both knew he would.

Blaine had given him a fresh dose of cold medicine, plus a cough suppressant he had picked up _just in case,_ which, paired with a bowl of soup, sent Kurt into a floaty, semi-conscious state that he had come to enjoy, despite the circumstances. He was more than happy to just lay there on his stomach, focused on the feeling of Blaine’s fingers tracing patterns across his back or up his arms, focused on the sound of Blaine’s voice as he talked about nothing and everything. 

The more time he spent with Blaine, the more Kurt came to realize that Blaine rarely _stopped_ talking, a far cry from the quiet roommate Kurt always thought he had, but he quickly realized he didn’t mind it, either.

In fact, he preferred it, and now that the door was open in more ways than one, he hoped they would never close off again.

“Were you ever gonna tell me you liked me?” Kurt asked after a while, not quite realizing he had spoken out loud until after he said it. In a way, he felt like a middle schooler with his first requited crush, but he owned it, feeling loose and free and _open_ as his eyes fluttered open to meet Blaine’s.

“I’m not sure I would’ve worked up the nerve,” Blaine admitted, reaching a hand up to stroke his fingers through Kurt’s hair in a slow, repetitive motion, once, twice, three times before lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that made Kurt positively _melt._ “I didn’t want to make things awkward if you rejected me.”

“What changed?” Kurt murmured, fiddling with the hem of Blaine’s shirt as he looked at him curiously, suddenly wanting to know _everything_ about Blaine, to catch up on the months they had missed, that _he_ had missed.

“Well, um. There was, uh. Something you said last night. I...I’m not sure if you were even awake, but...”

_Oh god._

Kurt froze, eyes widening as a spike of anxiety coursed through him, and he racked his brain in a desperate attempt to remember what the hell he _said._

No love confession, no awkward flirting, nothing.

He was coming up completely short.

_Oh. God._

“What did I say?” he asked tentatively, avoiding eye contact, dreading the answer but needing to _know,_ needing to do damage control.

“You said something like, uh. You could... You could fall for me. I-If you let yourself. Something like that,” Blaine said, and he sounded nervous, but why was _he_ nervous? Kurt was the one that deserved to be mortified, and he _was,_ because _no._ He did _not_ say that.

“I am so sorry,” Kurt groaned, rolling over onto his back and squeezing his eyes closed, covering his face with his hands for good measure and willing himself to disappear into the mattress completely. “Oh god. I can’t believe I-”

“Hey, stop,” Blaine interjected, gently tugging Kurt’s hands away and leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth instead, to Kurt’s great surprise. “Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was adorable.” 

_Adorable._

Kurt peeked one eye open at Blaine, checking for some sort of indication that he was making fun of him, that he was creeped out, but there was nothing, nothing other than that sweet openness Kurt had become so familiar with.

“You. What? No,” he balked, Blaine’s words and face and _kisses_ clearly adding up to an answer his mind somehow remained unable to formulate. 

“Adorable,” Blaine grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth, then the other, then right on his lips, slow and sweet and deep. “I think _you’re_ adorable.”

It still didn’t make sense, but Kurt was powerless to do anything but take it at face value as his arms came up to hook around Blaine’s neck, pulling him closer.

“Hope you think my germs are adorable, too,” he muttered against Blaine’s lips, but Blaine just laughed, kissing him again and again.

They slept in Blaine’s bed again that night, and though Blaine said it was just because they still hadn’t gotten around to changing Kurt’s sheets, Kurt had a sneaking suspicion that Blaine didn’t want to let go of him.

Even after a few hours of _whatever_ they were, Kurt had come to learn that along with being quite talkative, Blaine was also extremely tactile - _clingy,_ even.

It should have been weird, and it should have been too much, too soon, but it just _wasn’t._

Kurt loved it, and he didn’t want to let go, either.

His fever broke in the middle of the night that night, and they both woke up drenched in Kurt’s sweat. Kurt instantly felt better, just in time for his first exams the next morning, but he immediately wanted to go die in a hole, because _ew._

But Blaine just kissed his sweaty temple and quietly changed his sheets like it was the easiest thing in the world, like he would do anything at all for Kurt, and Kurt was starting to believe it.

He _also_ had a sneaking suspicion that he would be doing the same in return for Blaine soon enough.

Though his cough lingered, Kurt made it through his exams without a hitch. Somehow, both of their finals weeks were top-heavy, with Blaine’s few projects and papers all due and Kurt’s tests all taken by Wednesday, and they were looking forward to having a few days to spend together before heading home for the holidays.

Everything between them was exciting and new, and between school and Kurt being sick, they hadn’t had time to really figure _them_ out, but Kurt wasn’t worried about it.

He couldn’t put his finger on why, but they just felt _solid._ Kurt trusted Blaine, and he trusted _them,_ despite every past experience and insecurity that had been holding him back all along.

It should have been weird, and it should have been _scary,_ but it just _wasn’t._

Kurt hummed as he jammed his key in their lock, balancing a bag of cheesecake brownies atop a pizza box with his free arm. They were done for the semester, and they were free for the rest of the week, and they had big plans to watch movies and _not_ watch movies and get to know each other all over again.

But when Kurt walked into their tiny dorm room to find Blaine curled up on his bed in the middle of the afternoon, he immediately knew their plans were about to change.

“Your turn,” Blaine croaked.


	2. Not How It Needed to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! I wasn't originally going to write a second chapter of this, but by popular demand, I offer you a direct continuation. now blaine is the sick one :-)
> 
> sickfics are totally my guilty pleasure, and the reaction to this has been so fun and unexpected! I hope you enjoy round two just as much!
> 
> also, I'm nominated for a few klaine fanfic awards on tumblr, including best new author, plus two awards for my long fic A Safe Place! if you're so inclined, you can check out the awards and vote [here](https://klaineccfanficlibrary.tumblr.com/post/624735052056641536/klaine-and-cc-fanfic-awards-vote-for-your#notas)

Kurt was no stranger to taking care of people.

If anything, he was _too_ familiar with it, having spent ample amounts of time caring for his dad after his heart attack back during junior year of high school. It wasn’t that he had minded - in fact, he had _insisted_ upon it, taking on a repertoire of heart-healthy recipes and researching light exercise routines and encouraging better habits, the whole nine yards.

Of course, his dad had fought him tooth and nail, every step of the way.

_I’m fine, kid. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself._

But from the minute Kurt walked into their dorm room, he realized that taking care of _Blaine,_ however, was going to be something else entirely.

Because Blaine _wanted_ to be taken care of. 

He _really_ wanted it.

It wasn’t that Kurt minded - quite the opposite, actually. He wanted to be close to Blaine, too, to spend time with him and dote on him and the rest of it, but he still wasn’t used to _allowing_ himself to want it, to want _Blaine._

He had spent months actively looking away, keeping his distance, convincing himself that Blaine was entirely off-limits, and he had been _fine_ with that. He had accepted it long ago, in fact.

But then the door flung wide open, and there Blaine was, wanting him and kissing him and touching him even when Kurt was germy and sweaty and stuffed up and plain old _gross._

It changed _everything,_ all at once _,_ but Kurt had _just_ gotten over his own cold, only to be swept up by exams and papers and the stress of finals, meaning he hadn’t had the time or space or clarity to even _begin_ processing it.

And there Blaine was, disheveled curls sticking out of his blanket cocoon, reaching out with his arms to make real, actual _grabby hands_ for Kurt, and _dammit,_ he was cute.

Apparently, Kurt was just going to have to dive in head-first and sort the rest out later.

“I told you this would happen,” he sighed, toeing off his shoes before setting the pizza box and brownies on his desk. His stomach gave a little hopeful rumble, - he had only really just begun getting his appetite back - and he looked at the box longingly, but he left it in favor of making his way over to Blaine’s side of the room. 

_God,_ he was hungry. But Blaine had taken such good care of Kurt when he was sick that he knew he owed Blaine the same.

He had promised, after all.

“I thought it was worth it at the time,” Blaine groaned, voice raspy and deep in a way that would have normally sent a shiver down Kurt’s spine, had the reason for it not been so pitiful. “I feel awful.”

Kurt frowned sympathetically, perching himself on the edge of Blaine’s bed and tugging the covers down just enough to place the back of his hand to Blaine’s forehead.

He felt normal, as far as Kurt could tell - but he figured it was only a matter of time before the fever came on.

“Not worth it anymore?” he mostly-teased, though a tinge of doubt nagged at the back of his mind. It was all so new, all uncharted territory, and they still hadn’t really _talked_ about any of it.

What if Blaine was changing his mind?

“To be determined,” Blaine said coyly, though the way his eyes softened and crinkled at the corners gave him away. Then he reached up, hand coming to gently cup the back of Kurt’s neck, fingers minutely stroking at the ends of his hair there, and Kurt’s lingering worries all but dissipated. “Come here.”

Powerless to resist, Kurt leaned down to press a brief kiss to Blaine’s mouth - it was dry and off-center, and Blaine’s lips were chapped, but it was still enough to make Kurt’s heart flutter and his stomach flip, enough to take his breath away.

“You need anything?” Kurt managed to ask as he pulled back, stroking his fingers tentatively through Blaine’s hair. He still wasn’t sure where their boundaries stood, if there were any - he had never been a very touchy-feely person, but Blaine seemed to be, and, oddly enough, it made _Kurt_ want to be, too. “Tea, soup, um. Pizza?”

Judging by the way Blaine tilted his head back, practically arching into the touch, maybe Kurt hadn’t crossed the line.

“Just you,” Blaine beamed, eyes heavy and warm like honey as he scootched towards the wall, like he was making room. “Lay with me?”

Kurt felt his face heat up with a blush despite himself, heart racing in his chest because _okay,_ apparently he wasn’t even _close_ to crossing the line. He didn’t even _see_ the line.

Not that he was complaining.

He was _really_ hungry, though, but... there Blaine was, open and wanting and _waiting._

Kurt’s mind was made up in an instant. The pizza could wait.

He barely had the chance to lay down before Blaine was on top of him, curling an arm around his torso and shoving his head into the crook of Kurt’s neck, slinging a leg over Kurt’s hips.

_Okay then._

“Um. Hi,” Kurt peeped, shifting slightly to get comfortable - Blaine’s curls were _really_ tickling his nose. His hand came to rest on Blaine’s back, between his shoulder blades, and he rubbed in gentle circles there, the way he had loved so much when Blaine did it for him.

“Mmmmmm. Hey,” Blaine hummed, and Kurt barely suppressed a shiver as he felt Blaine’s lips ghost a light kiss to his neck. “You’re comfy.”

He knew Blaine needed to take some medicine before he got worse, and tea really _would_ be good for him - plus, Kurt’s jeans were a little too tight, a little too uncomfortable for cuddling in.

But just as quickly as they got settled, Blaine’s breathing started to even out, deep and heavy and a little rattly, and he began snuffling quiet little snores, and Kurt knew neither of them were going to be moving anytime soon.

Pulling Blaine a little closer and breathing in deeply, Kurt decided to just let himself enjoy it.

He _did_ enjoy it, at least for a little while.

He _liked_ laying with Blaine, - loved it, even - but his sweater was thick, and Blaine was practically a furnace, and Kurt was nowhere near tired enough for a nap, and he hadn’t eaten all day.

Blaine was cozy and sweet and heavy in a comforting way, and he smelled good, even while sick, and Kurt felt at _home_ laying in his arms in a way that kind of scared him, but-

He had to get up.

Kurt held his breath as he moved - _agonizingly_ slowly - to carefully extract himself from underneath Blaine, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t disturb him. _Lift his arm off, shift out from under his chin, move his leg, good._

With overly-careful, calculated movements, Kurt managed to get out of Blaine’s bed. He let out a heavy sigh in relief, about to head for the pizza box, cold yet surely still edible, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Blaine - really _saw_ him.

The golden light of early evening was streaming through the blinds, ghosting over Blaine’s face, and he looked _unreal,_ impossibly relaxed and young and innocent in his sleep. His lips were slightly parted as he puffed out shallow, even breaths, his ridiculously long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, his curls natural and unruly and soft as they fell across his forehead. He was laying on his side, hands resting in little fists up by his chest, one leg slung over the comforter.

Blaine was so _beautiful,_ even like this.

How had Kurt been able to turn a blind eye to him for so long, when Blaine had been _right there,_ practically an arms length away, looking like _that?_

How much time had he wasted?

It didn’t matter.

They were - well - they were _whatever_ they were now, sickness notwithstanding. All Kurt could do was hope Blaine still _wanted_ him when they were both healthy, both fully lucid and aware and living their normal lives.

He sure as hell knew he wanted Blaine.

Suddenly, Blaine snorted in his sleep, and Kurt snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he was staring like a creepy stalker or something, and Blaine could _not_ catch him just _standing_ there.

No, he would _never_ live that down.

Huffing a quick breath, Kurt shook his head quickly and turned for the pizza box. It was cold, and the cheese was congealed and weird, but he was hungry enough not to care - plus there was no way he was going to risk the noise of bothering with the microwave. 

Surprisingly, he made it through two slices and a cheesecake brownie without a peep from Blaine, and then he changed into sweatpants and a more breathable shirt, too, and still nothing. But then his belly was full enough, and he was relatively satisfied, and he had no idea what to do next.

He wasn’t sure if Blaine would want him to get back in bed. He wasn’t sure if _he_ wanted to get back in bed - he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything but lay there, and it was still too early for him to fall asleep. 

So Kurt set to doing what he did best - staying busy. He knew Blaine needed to eat something, and he needed to take something, and tea would probably help, too, but as Kurt stared at their little collection of leftover soup cans and tea bags and ramen, he suddenly realized how _little_ he really knew about Blaine.

Did Blaine prefer vegetable or chicken noodle soup, or was he more of a tomato guy? Did he like his tea with milk? Sugar? Honey?

They had been quite literally attached at the hip for the past few days, living in the same _room_ for ages longer, but there was so much Kurt had missed out on, so much he still needed to know.

He wanted to know all of it _._

For the moment, though, he _didn’t_ know, and Blaine was beginning to snore like a lawn mower, - which was surprisingly cute - meaning Kurt had no way to find out, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

Blaine had taken such good care of him - in fact, Kurt had _never_ felt so cared for, in that oddly perfect way that should’ve been weird but wasn’t. Now that the tables were turned, Kurt was acutely feeling the pressure to return the favor, to do even _better._

But he had no idea what kind of soup to make, and he had no idea why it _mattered_ so much.

Logically, he knew it didn’t. It wasn’t like Blaine would even really be able to taste, if his symptoms were anything like Kurt’s were.

Still, as solid as Kurt had felt about _them,_ his insecurities were beginning to creep back in. The fact that they hadn’t talked, hadn’t _defined_ anything, had barely stepped outside of their dorm room together, meant that everything was abstract and loose and vague and unsettled, and as nice as it had been, it _was_ beginning to feel weird.

Kurt had never been good with not knowing things.

It wasn’t about the soup at all.

Kurt huffed a heavy sigh before settling on a can of chicken noodle, and all was well and good until he attempted to pull the lid off and nicked his finger on the sharp edge, only to loudly knock his knuckles on the edge of the desk as he shook out the stinging pain.

_“Shit,”_ he hissed under his breath, hoping the noise hadn’t disturbed Blaine, but it was too late.

“Kurt?” Blaine rasped, attempting to sit up before letting out a soft _whoa_ and falling back against the mattress. “You ‘kay? Where’d you go?”

He sounded so devastatingly _sweet,_ and he looked even sweeter, and Kurt felt all too much for him, heart swelling in his chest.

“Just, um,” Kurt gulped, gesturing lamely to the can of soup on the desk. “I thought you could use some soup. You should take some cold medicine, but not on an empty stomach.”

“You’re the best,” Blaine said happily in response, shifting again to slowly, carefully sit up - successfully, this time - and pulling the blankets around his shoulders. “Soup does sound good. Throat hurts.”

“Save your voice, then,” Kurt chided fondly, pouring the soup into a bowl and setting it in the microwave before freezing briefly, realizing the potential implication of his words. “Not, um- Not that I don’t want to _hear_ your voice, I-”

“Hey. Come here.”

Kurt deflated, starting the cook time before moving back over to Blaine, sitting a careful distance away from him - not too close, but not too far to be suspicious, either, because there _wasn’t_ anything to be suspicious of, he just felt… weird.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being weird?” Blaine wanted to know - which _oh,_ okay, apparently he was a mind reader. He scooted close to Kurt right away, getting right up in his space and sliding his arms around Kurt’s waist.

“I’m not being weird,” he said lamely, though he totally was _-_ he didn’t even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He sighed, sinking into Blaine in a silent apology. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe everything was fine, and _they_ were fine, and maybe they _would_ be fine, too.

Fine, fine, fine.

“I’m sorry I’m sick.” Blaine frowned, gently knocking his forehead against Kurt’s, looking into his eyes all warm and earnest and _genuine._ “You don’t have to spend your last few days here taking care of me, I… If you have better things to do, I-”

“No, no,” Kurt interrupted quickly, reaching up to thread his fingers through the curls at the back of Blaine’s head, holding him close. “I _want_ to. As long as _you_ want me to.”

Blaine just let out a raspy little laugh before capturing Kurt’s lips in a series of short, soft kisses, swiftly squashing the rest of Kurt’s worries. He felt Blaine’s smile against his mouth, and Kurt knew he was smiling, too, unable to help but kiss back again and again, not breaking away until the microwave started beeping.

“There’s no one I’d rather have with me,” Blaine breathed, and Kurt believed him.

Things got easier after that, at least for Kurt’s insecurities. A bowl of soup did Blaine some good, too, giving him back some healthy color in his cheeks and waking him up enough to want to watch a movie together - so there they sat, cuddled up together and half-paying attention to Moulin Rouge, half-immersed in the addictive feeling of just _being_ together. 

And then Blaine’s cold medicine kicked in.

Somehow, Kurt could tell almost the minute it did. Blaine’s eyes got a little glassy, and his smile got a little dopey, and he shoved himself impossibly closer to Kurt, practically knocking the laptop off of his lap, before nuzzling his face into Kurt’s neck and shamelessly breathing in.

“You smell good,” Blaine sighed dreamily, oblivious to the goosebumps blooming all over Kurt’s body, the shiver running down his spine. “You _look_ good, too, _always._ You’re just soooo _good.”_

Kurt bit his lip to hold back a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the way his heart began to melt despite the utter ridiculousness of it as he shifted to rub gently up and down Blaine’s back.

“Thought I told you to rest your voice,” he deflected, though he couldn’t resist pressing his face into Blaine’s hair because, truly, _Blaine_ smelled good, too, sick or not.

Blaine grumbled briefly, voice too muffled for Kurt to make the words out, but didn’t protest further. They were quiet for a long moment, Elephant Love Medley playing quietly in the background, though there was no way either of them could see the screen anymore.

And then Kurt felt the ghost of Blaine’s lips against his neck.

At first, he thought he imagined it - or maybe it was an accident. But then he _kept_ feeling it, and then Blaine was fully kissing his neck, gentle little kisses that got gradually more insistent. 

Apparently Kurt’s neck was sensitive because _god,_ that felt good, and he tilted his head back a little despite himself, letting out a shaky breath, but-

_No._

Blaine was sick. Blaine was doped up, and he was sick, and Kurt was _not_ about to take advantage of his compromised form, eager or not.

“Hey, hey,” he managed, leaning away slightly and tugging the back of Blaine’s sweater, willing him to pull back, too. “What’re you doing?”

Kurt shouldn’t have been surprised at Blaine’s shameless grin, but he was all the same, even more caught off guard by his _eyes,_ wide and dark, pupils the size of the moon.

“Kissin’ you,” Blaine said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, lifting himself up on his elbow before attempting to lean in for more, but Kurt managed to stop him, reaching up to cup Blaine’s face in his hand instead.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?” he teased, nudging their noses together. 

Blaine’s eyes widened impossibly more, and he nodded quickly, apparently taking Kurt _very_ seriously.

“I-I am sick, I swear,” he said quickly, pulling back to sit up and forcing out a little cough into his elbow for emphasis. “See? I feel awful, my throat is scratchy and my chest is all tight and-”

He cut himself off mid-sentence, grin turning suddenly dopey and eyes sparkling, gazing at Kurt like he was seeing for the very first time.

“You’re so _handsome,”_ Blaine breathed, and Kurt was done for, unable to do anything but stare right back.

“I, um. Thanks.”

As hard as Kurt was trying to be the responsible one, to hold back until Blaine was healthy enough to really talk, to take good care of Blaine and rest him up, he was only human, and he _really_ liked Blaine, more and more by the minute, and _no one_ had ever looked at him like that before.

It was nearly too much to take.

And so Kurt sat up, too, and promptly pulled Blaine into a sweet, long kiss, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest entirely. Blaine’s hands quickly came to cup Kurt’s face, his touch warming Kurt all the way down to his curling toes, making him feel positively electric. Kurt was right on the edge of losing himself in it, losing himself in _Blaine,_ but he couldn’t.

As irresistibly cute as he was, Blaine needed to rest.

Kurt broke the kiss slowly with a soft smacking sound and began to pull back, only for Blaine to chase his lips eagerly, gently sucking Kurt’s lower lip into his mouth.

_“Mm,_ Blaine,” he groaned softly - because _fuck,_ that felt good - but forced himself to pull away completely and laid back down, though his hands still stayed on Blaine’s shoulders, thumbs stroking gently over his sweater-covered collarbones. “No, you- we should get some sleep.”

With a little pout, Blaine flopped onto the mattress and immediately clung to Kurt, slinging a leg over Kurt’s hips again and - _oh -_ slipping his hand under Kurt’s shirt to rest on his bare stomach.

“Don’t wanna kiss me,” Blaine grumbled, shoving his nose into the crook of Kurt’s neck and huffing a sigh. Kurt barely managed to suppress yet another shiver because Blaine’s hand was _hot,_ and his breath was tickling his neck, and it felt like he was _everywhere._

“O-Of course I want to,” he admitted despite himself, stroking his fingers through Blaine’s curls. “But you’re sick, and you need to sleep. Then, um. Then you can kiss me all you want.” He felt silly for saying it, like he was talking to a child and being incredibly presumptuous to boot, but the hope was there all the same. _Please want to kiss me._

Blaine lifted up his head, already looking sleepy with heavy-lidded eyes, and he smiled slowly before pressing a little kiss to Kurt’s jawline.

“You promise?” he asked sweetly, fingers tracing light patterns over Kurt’s stomach.

“I promise.”

Blaine fell asleep quickly after that - Kurt knew it was more than likely (or definitely) from the cold medicine, but he held onto a tiny sliver of hope that _he_ had something to do with it. Maybe the way he was rubbing Blaine’s back lulled him under, or maybe it was the way they had already gotten used to sleeping together after only a few days, tiny twin bed and all, or maybe it was even the promise of kissing more the next morning, if he felt up for it.

He probably had nothing to do with it, but…

Maybe he did.

Even though it was still pretty early, it didn’t take long for Kurt to fall asleep himself, soothed by the feeling of all of it, of all of _Blaine._

Kurt had assumed he wouldn’t be sleeping through the night.

He figured Blaine would be up coughing at some point, or he would be needing a tissue or a cup of tea for his throat or a dose of cough syrup, or his fever would kick in and he would get overheated or too cold or _something,_ but Kurt slept right through the night, up until the noise of someone banging down the hallway woke him up and the sun was streaming too brightly through the window for him to get back to sleep.

_Huh._

Kurt reached up with his free arm and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before blinky slowly, looking down to find Blaine hadn’t moved much at all. He was still half on top of Kurt, head on Kurt’s chest, and Kurt’s arm was still pinned underneath Blaine’s body, long ago gone numb. 

Somehow, he found he didn’t really mind.

But his bladder _did_ mind, and he had been so caught up in Blaine’s drug-induced delirium that he had forgotten to brush his teeth or even do his moisturizing routine the night before, and he felt _gross._

Kurt was just debating how to slip out from underneath Blaine _again_ when Blaine stirred, stretching out his limbs and making sleepy little smacking sounds with his mouth.

“Morning,” Kurt murmured, stomach flipping yet again for the boy in his arms. “Gonna hav’ta get up.”

Blaine let out a soft groan and lifted up his head, blinking slowly at Kurt with a lazy smile on his face. “You’re so warm. So comfy.”

“So I’ve been told.” Kurt ignored the rush of heat in his face at the compliment - _still,_ like each one was the first all over again - in favor of running his fingers through Blaine’s mess of curls, humming softly as Blaine leaned back into the touch. “I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”

He started to get up, intending to disturb Blaine as little as possible, - maybe he could get back to sleep, at least - but was surprised when Blaine started getting up, too, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’ll come with,” Blaine announced, voice heavy with sleep but not particularly rough - better than the night before, at least. “Gotta pee.”

Kurt eyed him curiously, climbing out of bed and stretching his arms over his head, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and he bit back a smile as he watched Blaine’s eyes drift downwards and noticed his mouth falling open just slightly, too.

He simply filed _that_ away for later, for healthier days, in favor of reaching out his hand to help Blaine up. He remembered how _he_ had felt on his second real day of being sick, how he was feverish and gross and had almost blacked out in the bathroom, how Blaine had come to his rescue in the nick of time.

He didn’t want anything close to that to happen to Blaine - but, somehow, Blaine looked _better_ than Kurt had felt.

Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.

Blaine took Kurt’s hand and carefully got out of bed, and Kurt used his free hand to brace Blaine’s waist, intending to steady him, but he didn’t seem to need it. Instead, Blaine snaked his arms around Kurt’s waist and swayed into him, humming softly as he pressed a long kiss to Kurt’s cheek. 

“You okay?” Kurt asked softly, thumbing gently over Blaine’s hip, fabric of his sweater bunching between his fingers. “I don’t think you have a fever, you don’t feel too hot…”

Blaine lifted his head and frowned, leaning their foreheads together.

“You don’t think I’m hot, Hummel?” he huffed in fake offense, and Kurt jumped as he suddenly felt Blaine pinch his side.

“I never said that,” Kurt squeaked out, voice stupidly breathy and high, completely caught off guard because he had hardly expected Blaine to be _awake,_ much less up and teasing him and _flirting_ with him. He shook it off after a moment, giving Blaine’s waist a gentle squeeze before pulling away to grab his shower caddy. “Come on, you.”

Kurt had been so _miserable_ when he was sick, only just having shaken the last of it a day or two earlier. Why did Blaine seem so...okay?

Walking down the hallway next to Blaine, washing his face and brushing his teeth next to him just like any other morning, he figured that maybe Blaine just hadn’t caught it as badly.

“How do you feel, really?” Kurt asked after they got back to their dorm room, mid-rifling through his drawers for a change of clothes for himself and for Blaine, too, while Blaine laid back on his bed. “Do you need anything?”

“I don’t know, maybe I- _shit-”_ Blaine began before sucking in a ragged breath and _coughing,_ deep from his chest, and _god,_ it sounded nasty. Kurt was by his side in an instant, unsure of what exactly to do but wanting to do _something,_ eventually settling on helping Blaine sit upright, rubbing his back gently until the fit passed.

Maybe Blaine _did_ have it just as bad - just differently.

“Ugh,” Blaine groaned once it was over, slumping against Kurt’s side and leaning his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt murmured sympathetically, tugging him close and kissing his temple. “I know it’s awful. Let me fix you some tea? Some cough syrup, too?”

Blaine let out a shaky, rattly sigh, seemingly so _small_ and pitiful as he tucked himself under Kurt’s arm. 

“Just sit with me for a minute?” he asked, voice raspy and quiet, barely sounding.

Kurt knew the sooner he got some cough syrup in Blaine the better, but surely a couple minutes’ difference wouldn’t hurt, either, because there was no way he could say no to that.

Once the coughing started, Blaine was needy on a whole new level.

In fact, he seemed to want Kurt constantly - if Blaine was touchy-feely on a good day, the vulnerability of being sick put him at a whole new level. He was never _not_ reaching for Kurt, never not touching him on some level, whether it was his head on Kurt’s shoulder while coming down from a coughing fit or their fingers intertwined while Blaine drank his tea or his arms wrapped around Kurt as he tried to rest.

Blaine was _clingy_ in the most literal way.

Kurt should have felt suffocated. He wasn’t used to touching, wasn’t used to someone _wanting_ to touch him, wasn’t used to having someone in his personal space at all _,_ much less constantly. It was new and different and _intense,_ and even though it should have been too much for him _,_ it just wasn’t.

Maybe it would have been, under normal circumstances, but he was so focused on _Blaine,_ on what Blaine was asking for and what Blaine needed and how he could help.

But, in a twisted way, too, Kurt was a little relieved. Because apparently Blaine really _did_ need him, and Kurt could push his worries about _after_ down for the greater good, in favor of rubbing Blaine’s back, tracking his medicine intake to alternate decongestant with cough suppressant, steeping Blaine cup after cup of his favorite tea - which, Kurt learned, was peppermint with honey. 

He didn’t have to worry about being too _much_ when they were both preoccupied with the hacking and the gasping for breath and the rest of it.

“I think I’m dying,” Blaine groaned dramatically after a particularly nasty bout of coughing, sinking into his pillows and reaching out to grasp at Kurt’s shirt.

“Maybe we should go to the health center,” Kurt frowned, rubbing at Blaine’s chest in firm, tight circles, hoping - perhaps in vain - to break up some of the congestion. “You might need something stronger… I didn’t have a cough like that.”

“Only need you.” Blaine shook his head, clenching his fist tighter in the fabric near Kurt’s chest and swiftly tugging hard enough to pull Kurt down. Kurt knew he should have been ready for it, but he was caught off guard all the same - barely managing to land next to Blaine instead of completely on top of him.

“What are you doing!” he yelped, lightly shoving at Blaine’s arm.

Blaine just laughed, all hoarse and raspy and eyes all sparkly and watering, though it devolved into coughing, all hacking and sputtering into his elbow.

“That’s what you get,” Kurt grumbled, but he rubbed at Blaine’s chest again all the same, working him through it. Thankfully, it passed quickly, leaving Blaine red-faced but somehow still grinning - no, _beaming -_ right at Kurt despite it all.

“I’m sick. You’re supposed to be nice to me,” Blaine teased before tucking himself against Kurt’s body, his hand working itself up Kurt’s shirt to find what was quickly becoming its usual home on his bare stomach.

“You know, for a sick person, you’re not acting very sick.” 

In fact, Blaine was acting rather _normal,_ if not for the cough and his raspy voice, the latter of which being something Kurt, selfishly, could get used to. He was clingier, sure, but Kurt had been completely down for the count for a solid 48 hours, and Blaine just...wasn’t.

It was strange.

“I _am_ sick! Why would I lie about that?” Blaine asked defensively, forcing out a few coughs for emphasis, just like he had the last time Kurt had mentioned it.

Kurt was quiet for a long moment, running his fingers up and down Blaine’s spine through his sweater. 

Why _would_ Blaine lie about not feeling well? Clearly he wasn’t _healthy,_ but he certainly didn’t seem like he needed to be bedridden. He still didn’t feel like he had a fever - he wasn’t sweaty or clammy or having chills, and he didn’t seem overly fatigued, either. But he was so _clingy,_ so… _needy._

Maybe he was exaggerating. 

But why would he be?

Kurt couldn’t think of a reason.

“I don’t know,” he decided, pulling Blaine close. 

As they lay there together, quiet other than the sounds of their eventually synchronized breathing, Kurt decided - for what felt like the hundredth time - that it didn’t matter. Apparently, Blaine _needed_ him, and he owed it to Blaine to be there.

He just hoped Blaine wanted him, too.

Kurt hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until he woke up. 

He had never been a big napper, but evidently finals week had taken a bigger toll on him than he had realized, or maybe he was still kicking the tail end of his own virus.

The first thing he noticed was that he felt cold.

The second thing he noticed was that the bed felt empty.

Then he noticed that the room was quiet - _too_ quiet.

_Shit._

Kurt sat up quickly, looking around their little dorm to find no sign of Blaine anywhere. Judging by the clock on Blaine’s desk, Kurt had been asleep for a little under an hour, and he had no way of knowing where Blaine had gone or how long ago he left.

Fuzzy memories of earlier that week quickly flashed through Kurt’s mind - his head rushing at any sudden movement, nearly blacking out in the bathroom, Blaine finding him and rescuing him and _helping_ him, and what if he _hadn’t?_ What if Blaine hadn’t been there, and how had he so naturally just _known_ where Kurt was, and why didn’t Kurt have that innate sense for Blaine, and-

Suddenly, the knob twisted and the door opened and there was Blaine, hair damp and frizzy, shirtless with a towel draped around his shoulders, sweatpants slung low on his hips.

He would have looked positively _delectable_ if Kurt wasn’t instantly so _angry._

“Oh, hey, you’re up! You looked like you-”

“Where the _hell_ were you?” Kurt snapped, his tone coming off harsher than Blaine likely deserved, but he had just woken up, and he was _worried,_ and he couldn’t believe Blaine had just- just gone off and _left_ like it was nothing.

“Whoa. I was just showering.” Blaine held up his hands in defense briefly, and he gave Kurt a little shrug before hanging his towel over the rack by his closet. “What’s the big deal?”

Kurt gaped at him for a moment, unable to reconcile the bright-eyed, stable, _healthy_ looking Blaine before his eyes with the clingy, needy Blaine of the past day or so, the Blaine that was coughing and asking for things and reaching for Kurt and looking so _pitiful,_ and-

Had Blaine even really _needed_ any of that?

No, Blaine wouldn’t _use_ him. He wouldn’t lie. 

Or _would_ he? Did he have some ulterior motive, some long con to get Kurt to- to do _something?_ To get Kurt right where he wanted him and then-

_No._ That was crazy. He _wouldn’t._

Kurt _trusted_ him without really knowing why, without having a real reason to - but it wasn’t like he even really knew much about Blaine at all. 

There was too much unspoken, too much left unsaid and unmentioned and _undefined,_ and though Kurt had been genuinely _fine_ with that, fine to live in the moment and fine to take what he was getting, he was very suddenly _not_ fine at all.

He needed answers.

“I mean- what- are you even really _sick?_ How are you just- fine to go off and shower without _telling_ me? What if- what if you got lightheaded or coughed too much or- or blacked out like I did or something and you had just left me here- _sleeping?_ I mean, is this- is this some kind of _game_ to you or something? You- you’re barely even sick, are you! _”_

Blaine sighed, running his fingers through his curls before giving Kurt a tiny, guilty smile.

“I-I didn’t make it up, but I may have... _emphasized_ it a little,” he admitted, clearing his throat - which, okay, _did_ sound rough and congested. 

At least there was that.

But _why?_

It still didn’t make sense - and any answer Kurt could think of left him feeling nothing but used.

“What- you just, what, you wanted me to wait on you hand and foot or something? Blaine, that’s not-”

_“No,_ Kurt, I swear,” Blaine pleaded, and then he was there, right on the bed by Kurt, reaching for his hands. “Please believe me, I wasn’t trying to- to take advantage of your kindness. I _promise.”_

“Then what was it?” Kurt asked as he stared at their joined hands in his lap, voice as small as he felt, confused and overwhelmed by all of it.

Blaine was quiet for a moment, and he shifted closer until their knees were touching, letting go of one of Kurt’s hands in favor of gently nudging at his chin, encouraging Kurt to look at him. His hand drifted to cup the back of Kurt’s neck, then, gently stroking at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I guess I just… I felt you hesitating,” he began slowly, eyes warm and honest in a way Kurt couldn’t help but feel captivated by, regardless of how annoyed and confused and _hurt_ he was. “I felt you pulling away a little bit, and I didn’t want you to, so I thought maybe… I don’t know. Saying it out loud… It sounds pretty stupid.”

Kurt let out a shaky, breathless laugh despite himself, beginning to deflate. He was still confused - _so_ confused - but Blaine sounded so nervous and earnest and _sweet,_ and it was enough to ease Kurt’s mind, enough for him to believe that Blaine _didn’t_ have some messed up plan in mind.

In fact, Blaine sounded just as confused as Kurt did.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt decided to put himself out there - hopefully, for both of them.

“Pulling away from what, though?” he asked quietly, looking down again and fidgeting with the fingers of Blaine’s hand in his lap, thumb stroking gently over Blaine’s nail beds. “I mean, what are we- what are we doing?”

Blaine was quiet for a long moment, long enough for Kurt to look up at him again, searching for a sign of what could be going through Blaine’s mind. 

He couldn’t really find any.

“Kurt, I- I like you a lot, and I like- I like how I feel when I’m with you. It feels easy and _good,_ but- I’m...not really good at romance.” He gave Kurt a little shrug and an insecure smile, though his gaze was softer and steadier than ever, eyes like liquid gold. “I don’t want to mess this up, and I guess I thought by just _going_ with it, maybe we’d figure it out, but…”

Slowly, it was all beginning to make sense - the puzzle pieces were beginning to sort themselves out and fall into place in Kurt’s mind, leaving him with one realization.

Blaine had no idea what he was doing, either.

But he was being open, and he was being honest, and Kurt owed it to him to do the same, as nervous and unsure as he was, as big and scary as his feelings were.

“I’ve never… I’ve never really even dated anyone before,” he admitted, wincing at the way Blaine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I guess I’m not sure what… I-If we _are_ something, I didn’t know what I was- allowed to do, I guess. What you _wanted_ me to do.”

In lieu of an immediate answer, Blaine closed the distance between them and pressed a long, deep kiss to Kurt’s lips, thumb coming to stroke gently at the skin behind Kurt’s ear in a way that made him positively _melt._ Kurt’s hands came up to rest on Blaine’s chest, warm and strong beneath his palms, as he sunk into the kiss, thumbs lightly rubbing over Blaine’s collarbones. Relief and understanding settled in his bones, quickly allowing him to simply embrace the _feeling_ of kissing Blaine, twisting heat coiling low in his belly.

They kissed until they needed to break for a breath, and Kurt nipped at Blaine’s bottom lip into his mouth as he began to pull back, tugging gently and feeling a little thrill at the way Blaine’s breath hitched in his chest. They kept their eyes closed, foreheads leaning together as their ragged breaths mixed between them, and Kurt was lost in it. As many times as they had kissed that week, _this_ was the best one by far.

It felt so much more _certain._

“We are _so_ something,” Blaine said breathlessly, pressing a series of smaller, more chaste kisses to Kurt’s lips before pulling back, though he stayed close. Kurt’s eyes fluttered open slowly to find Blaine was already looking at him, like he was peering into Kurt’s very _soul,_ and, surprisingly, Kurt didn’t mind it. 

“Well, um. Good.” Kurt let out a little giddy laugh, too caught up in _Blaine_ to be embarrassed about how he sounded. “I’m sorry for...being weird, I guess, I-”

“No, hey,” Blaine interjected, kissing the corner of Kurt’s mouth softly. “Don’t apologize. I… I shouldn’t have done any of that. I mean, I don’t feel _great,_ and I definitely felt bad before, but-” He paused, pressing a series of light kisses to Kurt’s nose, his cheeks, his forehead before moving back enough to look at Kurt. “I should’ve made my intentions clear from the beginning.”

“Which are? Keeping me in this bed of yours, for one?” Kurt asked coyly, fluttering his eyelashes playfully, though he _did_ want to know, just to make sure. He _loved_ messing with Blaine, teasing each other and having _fun,_ and he expected a response along those same lines. 

Instead, Blaine went quiet, and he shifted nervously, coughing lightly into his elbow a few times before looking at Kurt again, face incredibly serious.

“Well, um,” he began, swallowing thickly. He seemed to hesitate before shaking his head, cracking a crooked half-grin that warmed Kurt down to his toes. “Be my boyfriend?”

It was Kurt’s turn to pull Blaine into a kiss, his heart swelling impossibly large in his chest at his words, at the kiss, at the feeling of Blaine’s bare torso pressing into him, at finally having the knowledge of Blaine’s intentions and being sure of his own.

There were still questions, still unknowns - how to manage the fact that they were about to spend a month apart for winter break, how to come back after the break and find each other again, how to navigate a new relationship and strike a healthy balance while living in the same cramped space…

But there would always be questions, always be unknowns about anything and everything - the things that mattered, at least.

And somehow, when something was as important as Blaine was quickly becoming, the parts unknown weren’t so scary.

Maybe they were even exciting.

“You silly, silly boy,” Kurt grinned against Blaine’s mouth, kissing him again and again. “All you ever had to do was ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think! :-)


End file.
